


That's How

by ArcticLucie



Series: Needed/Wanted [4]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daaric, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Ficlet Collection, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-03-19 22:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 4,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3626424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcticLucie/pseuds/ArcticLucie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of random Daaric ficlets and such related to my Needed/Wanted series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Laundry

**Author's Note:**

> There will probably not be any chronological order to these and they'll probably be pretty short. Just little snapshots that didn't make it into the longer fics.
> 
> This first one takes place shortly after Daryl moves in with Aaron and Eric while they're painting Daryl's room.

It sounded innocent enough:

_"Hey hon, I'm about to put a load of darks in the washer. Do you have anything to throw in there?"_

But that was it. 

Daryl had only heard Eric call Aaron 'hon' and he assumed that's who he was talking to. When Aaron didn't reply, he stilled the green tinged brush in his hand and looked over his shoulder. Aaron was looking at him curiously from over the paint can he was stirring and Eric was looking at him with a kind, patient smile.

Daryl shrugged him off and said, "I can do my own laundry. I ain't worth fussin' over." He turned back to his paint brush, but his strokes were sad and unenthusiastic.

"I think you're worth the fuss or I wouldn't have asked," Eric replied, voice firm yet soothing. "The washing machine is more efficient when it's full, so you can give me your clothes to pop in there now, or I can wait until you change tonight and do them then." He tilted his head, pursing his lips slightly.

Daryl shot Aaron a look who leveled him with one back that said, _'I sympathize, but you won't win here'._

He huffed but dropped his brush and stalked over to his bag of clothes. They were all dirty, so he just handed Eric the whole bag. He felt bad when he saw him turn to limp out the door and down the hall, but that guilt was alleviated when Eric gave him a sickeningly sweet smile over his shoulder. It wasn't even smug like he was expecting.

That's how it started; that was the point in which their lives began to merge: with soiled clothes mingling in soapy water as they swirled around an agitator in a high efficiency washing machine.

But he reckoned it had to start somewhere.


	2. Morning Ritual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and Eric's morning ritual.

Daryl was sure Eric rolled out of bed every morning with a smile on his face, chipper and eager for the promise of a new start. He'd go downstairs to make breakfast while Daryl headed for the garage, silently declining the standing invitation to join them.

A little while later, the man would swept across the kitchen floor—bum ankle or no—with a mug of scolding coffee for him. Eric would lean in the garage door and say, "Good morning, Handsome! Working hard already?"

Every damn time Daryl would blush at the compliment before shaking it off and rushing over to snatch the coffee from him.

He looked forward to that ritual more than he realized. 

It wasn't until two weeks after he moved in with them, and it suddenly stopped, that he understood how much he needed that smile, that morning exchange, those bright eyes, that sense of belonging to make his own day worth living. 

But he shook that right off because he could get his own damn coffee! And Dixon's never cared for compliments.

He walked in the kitchen, following the aroma of coffee, to find the couple in their usual chairs, his waiting with a plate of food and a steaming mug placed in front of it. Eric flashed him that same warm smile he gave him day after day, but this time the greeting was different, "Good morning, Handsome! Fixed you a plate."

And that's how it went from then on. 


	3. Junk Bike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl gets his bike up and running.

It took longer than he thought it would to fix up that old junk bike. Parts were difficult to find and often didn't fit right, but he kept at it. It was a labor of love really. In more ways than one.

The first test drive was thrilling. The whole settlement watched as he whizzed by, the kids chasing after, the teens wanting lessons, the old folks fussing over the noise. 

He pulled back up to the house, Aaron and Eric both grinning proudly, and motioned for one to get on. They both hesitated, but Eric convinced Aaron to give it a try because outside the walls, he may very well need to ride it or be able to steer it in an emergency.

Daryl watched Aaron pull on the only helmet they had and throw his leg over the back. He slid in close, the feel of strong hands gliding over his stomach had Daryl wishing for them to sink lower. The feel of Aaron pressed tightly against his back, hips flush, had him wishing they were naked. 

There was no hiding the surge of electrons that ran through one and out the other at the contact. He was pretty sure the fireworks display they were setting off was going to attract walkers.

Surprised that he had the coherency not to crash with those arms enveloping him, they made it back to the house in one piece. But the look of pure sex in Eric's eyes when they pulled up gave Daryl a hard-on for weeks. And neither reaction were just for Aaron.

That's how the tiny ball of tinder him and Eric had been compiling caught flame. On the back of a Frankenstein motorcycle in a thick cloud of exhaust on an idle Tuesday, metaphorically speaking, with Eric's partner's arms wrapped around their future lover.

Then, they went inside and ate really bad homemade spaghetti.


	4. Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going back in time a bit; Daryl and Aaron chasing Buttons.

He heard the rustle of leaves from a nearby bush, a twig breaking under a heavy foot—an intentionally heavy foot, he thought—and drew his bow up at the threat.

That's how Aaron approached him for the first time, just like he was a skittish deer. And he supposed he was. The man said he was hunting rabbits, but Daryl was no fool. He was clearly hunting a Dixon. He was pretty good, too. But Daryl was better. 

They walked mostly in silence through the woods a little ways out from the walls of Alexandria, and Daryl was struck by how easy it was being in Aaron's presence. He'd had worse hunting companions in his life. Hell, his own flesh and blood was a shit hunter, but Daryl always let Merle tag along when he asked.

Maybe that's why he agreed to let Aaron come along. 

Maybe that's what he wanted himself to believe.

Soon, the hunt gave way to a rescue mission for a horse named Buttons and male bonding over the bodies of fallen walkers. That was pretty much the instant their friendship started, solidified over mutilated corpses of a horse that refused to be broken and the undead walking.

Still, there were worse ways to make a friend.


	5. Carol Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jumping forward a bit into their established relationship. This is set in 'Moving Forward' which I haven't even started yet. Was going to hold off, but I love it and the next one.

The second time Daryl saw Rick kissing Jessie was just after a town hall meeting. It was nothing special, a small peck on the lips as she held Judith on her hip. 

That used to be him and he couldn't deny that it hurt, a small twinge of grief twisting in his chest as he quickly looked away. He fidgeted with a crumpled up smoke and lit it, the cocktail of chemicals soothing the frown hidden by his hair as he pulled them deep into his lungs.

He met Carol's knowing eyes and dropped his to the ground, kicking at a pebble, his mind going blank as he watched it skid across the concrete. He took another drag, expanding his lungs and disappearing into the cloud of smoke that he expelled after.

"Are you alright?" Aaron's voice, low and calming, drew his focus from the depths in which it was starting to descend. 

He looked up at him through his shaggy mop, his head cocked to the side, and nodded slightly. He put the half-smoked butt out on his boot and stuck it back in his pocket for safe keeping.

"Do you want to kiss us?" Eric teased, coming up to join them. "That'd shock the hell out of him." 

"I'd like to see anyone try to top it, the three of us making out in the street," Aaron chuckled.

"Ain't interested in revenge. Jus' wanna take ya'll home...then, maybe I'll kiss ya," Daryl smirked. 

Eric squeezed his forearm in a sign of support, "Well then, Mr. Dixon, take us home." 

The three of them turned to leave, Aaron's arm wrapped around Eric's shoulder, Daryl on the other side walking so close beside them that his bicep was brushing up against Eric's arm and Aaron's hand with every step. 

But it was the small, nearly imperceptible flicks of Aaron's fingertips over his skin with each stride combined with the sly sideways smiles Eric kept shooting his way that sent the last bit of heartache dissolving within him.

That was pretty much the closest to PDA's that Dixon's ever got; subtle if you weren't looking, blink and you miss it if you were.

However, Carol was always good at seeing things that the others didn't, and that's how she figured them out.


	6. Rick Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place at the same time as the last chapter. It's in Rick's pov.

Rick had the weight of his people on his shoulders since the second he woke up from that damn coma. When they stepped into the artificial past that was Alexandria after everything they'd been through, he thought it was understandable that he got caught up in the hype. 

Everyone was content with pretending the world hadn't fallen down around them, and he would be the first to admit that it was a heavenly thought. He knew it was bullshit, but he wanted it to be real, wanted it for his kids and his people.

He couldn't say why it was Jessie that he latched on to as he struggled with reintegrating into their society. Maybe it was her subtle smile or her silken hair. All he knew was that she represented something that he wanted, or rather something he was supposed to want. She was a symbol of who he was before, who he thought he was supposed to be now.

Bob had said that they could go back, and maybe at least subconsciously, he was trying to do just that.

He couldn't say why he pushed Daryl away either. He loved the man, he truly did with everything he had, but he wasn't strong enough to give his heart away again only to have it crushed under the wheel their world kept pummeling him with. 

He couldn't lose Daryl. But Rick was a man who kept losing.

And that's exactly what happened. 

Only he didn't know it until it was too late, until he had to suffer through watching him walk home with Aaron and Eric so close beside him that it made his skin crawl with rage and his chest constrict under the weight of it. 

That's how Rick realized he fucked up.

His veins filled with acid, and he had to excuse himself from the group before he did something stupid. He hopped the fence and took out his frustrations on so many walkers that he lost count, that his hands went numb from the force of it, but that just made him tired; it didn't fix the gaping hole in his heart. 

He stared at himself in the mirror for what felt like hours when he got home, his face nearly unrecognizable covered in walker gore, and thought back on all the moments the words "I love you," were left stranded on the tip of his tongue, all the times he was too scared to spit them out. And he loathed himself for that, for knowing it was too late.

Daryl was happy, and he couldn't take that away from him, not after everything he'd been through. So he let him go instead of fixing his mistake, let him be happy while his stubborn ass dug his grave with someone he knew he'd never love, and filled it in with menial sex and soft touches when all he wanted was a scruffy redneck whom he could only touch in memories.

It was just one more reason to hate that fucking place, and she, one more thing he used to keep up the façade.


	7. Truly Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, some sweet Darric to make up for that last chapter.

There was something foreboding about taking a shower in Alexandria that made Daryl's skin crawl. It wasn't so much the water as it was the fact that the whole experience was too much like stepping into the twilight zone, stepping back in time to when the world was right when he knew it wasn't.

He felt wrong without a film of grim coating his skin, without a blanket of dirt and sweat weighing him down and tying him to the present, to reality. If Eric and Aaron were bothered by it, they didn't let on.

As soon as Daryl and Aaron walked in the door from an extended scouting trip, Eric corralled them upstairs to clean up. Even Daryl had to admit that they were starting to smell a little ripe after having to dispatch a fuck ton of walkers. 

But when he attempted to break off to head to the guest bathroom, Eric grabbed his elbow and tugged him into his and Aaron's bedroom muttering something about 'not wasting water'.

Before he knew it, Eric had him halfway undressed while Aaron adjusted the temperature. They all stepped under the spray, the translucent glass cutting down on his feelings of claustrophobia from being crammed in the tiny stall like a sardine.

Four hands raked through his stringy waterlogged hair, stripping away more than just the outside world, random flutters of lips caressed nothing but skin for the first time in what was probably years, and slick fingers sent streams of dirt and dried blood spiraling down the drain.

That's how Daryl Dixon got truly clean for the first time since the world went to shit, smack dab in the middle of his two boyfriends as they purified every inch of his skin with flowery soap and loving hands until the water ran clear.

When all was said and done, the only thing he could think about was getting dirty again as soon as possible, if for nothing else than to have them scrub him raw once more.


	8. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl wakes up in between Aaron and Eric for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, my first actual drabble, 100 words exactly. And sorry for my lack of posting on this series lately, but I have some more of these fluff pieces planned, plus a pwp with these guys in the works, and I promise I'm almost done with the last chapter of "Moving In."

There was a leg between his, a cold nose on his neck, an arm slung over his side, and warm breath flowing over his skin. He could feel the rise and fall of Aaron's chest against his back and hear a slight raspy snore escaping his lips.

His own knee was wedged between Eric's, the man's hips flush against him, his flaccid yet slowly stirring cock resting against a bare ass, his cold nose buried in Eric's soft hair, and his lovers' sweet scents bringing back memories of their first night together. 

That's how Daryl woke up the morning after.


	9. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and Maggie save Eric.

The group had no choice but to backtrack after the road saturated in walkers rose up seemingly out of no where. Abraham slammed on the breaks and Daryl watched as the car Rick, Michonne, Glenn, and Aaron were in plowed through the herd until the taillights disappeared. 

Everyone was cursing as they frantically tried to figure out what to do. They couldn't follow them through the herd, they just had to trust that their car could get through it and that they'd meet them somewhere on the other side. 

This whole Alexandria thing was fucked. He knew it. This was just another sign. Everything about it screamed _wrong_ and Daryl hadn't even stepped foot in the place yet. 

But then a red star fell the wrong way against the night sky, and he knew they had to follow it. It was intuition really, like they were fucking wiseman drawn to the manger. It could be Rick and their people, but it could also be a trap as Carol kept insisting. He knew it wasn't. For some reason he trusted that Aaron guy. They had to check it out regardless because the possibility that it was Rick was too high not to.

They pulled up near an old factory complex and parked the RV leaving the kids with Tara, Rosita, the priest, and Noah while the rest spread out to look for their people. Daryl was with Maggie when they came to a long alleyway in between buildings. They could hear the sound of gurgling walkers near an old car and crept towards it weapons ready.

Daryl took off in sprint when he was close enough to make out a struggling person trying to fight off a few walkers from the ground. The man wasn't making noise, which was smart, in an attempt not to draw more or work them into a frenzy, but he wasn't going to last much longer from his position on the ground.

Daryl had taken out two with his crossbow before he heard Maggie yell in distraction. One walker had the man's wrist way too close to its mouth for comfort, but luckily it turned at the sound of her voice and they drew the remaining walkers away so they could take them out.

"Are you alright?" Maggie asked as they freed the man from the tire he had been pinned under.

"Yes, thank you so much, but I think my leg is busted," he panted in pained relief, "I thought I was a goner for a minute...you're with Rick's group, right?" 

"Was that your flare?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah," he replied before his eyes went wide as his panic grew to a level worse than when he was about to get eaten. "W-where's Aaron?" he asked, "He, he's supposed to be with you!"

"I don't know, we got separated from him and Rick and a few others, but we saw your flare and they probably did too," Maggie said calmly. "We need to see about your leg while we wait for them."

He nodded and Daryl helped Maggie get him into a nearby building before going to tell the others. When Aaron showed up with Rick and them, Daryl knew by the fear in the stranger's voice as he called for Eric that they were lovers. And for some reason, he welled up with pride knowing he helped give them a happy reunion.

That's how Daryl and Maggie saved Eric.


	10. Lazy "Saturday" Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron wakes up first for a change and brings his lovers coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this and the next several ficlets are courtesy of prompts from my favorite resident mermaid, MermaidSheenaz, because I was completely at a loss for these. Feel free to send me ideas if you have them in the comments or my [tumblr.](http://www.archlucie.tumblr.com)

They looked like a painting really, a masterpiece of two complimentary shades swirling and intertwined on a crisp snow white canvas, soft pink mingling with sandy tan skin as their limbs twisted about like the vines of two very different plants becoming one. 

It was beauty and art and life and Aaron wanted to lock all three of them in this moment for all of eternity, or maybe just the two of them because they were perfect like that, unencumbered by the world outside, the walkers, but also the world inside and laundry and chores.

He wanted to let them sleep, the two most precious of things to him, he wanted to preserve them in amber for future beings to discover when the Earth corrected the abominations that roamed outside so they could put them on display as an example to all of what love really looked like. 

But for now, they were all his. 

This was safe, they were home, and he was almost on the verge of tears just looking at them. 

Not the ones you shed of sadness but of pure elation, the kind that hit you unexpectedly when an orchestra plays a symphony that reaches deep inside you to touch your soul, when the violin hits just the right combination of notes or when the lyrics fit your state of mind so completely it was almost like the artist wrote them for you and you alone.

But life meant living and that meant waking his two boyfriends from their lazy "Saturday" morning slumber. He just needed a few more minutes to take it all in, to soak it up and memorize the moment, because Daryl was usually the first one out of bed every morning, he the last, and this, _this_ was rare.

"Ya gonna stare at us all day or ya gonna come back ta bed?" Daryl sleepily grumbled.

Aaron huffed out a quiet laugh and nodded. "Brought coffee," he replied, motioning to the their three mugs sitting on the side table. "And I came to wake you, not fall back into bed."

"How 'bout ya crawl in and _then_ we drink our coffee?"

Aaron wasn't going to argue with that. He couldn't. Instead, he walked around to the other side of the bed, not wanting to risk waking Eric, and slid in next to the hunter. The coffee long forgotten, he drifted off with his lips on Daryl's neck, one set of toes on Eric's calf, and everything in between blending together in an amalgamation of the three of them.

That's how Aaron added his strokes of color to the canvas that morning, deciding quickly that the painting just wasn't complete without him in it.


	11. Dressing Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're going a little back in time with this one; preslash and post Daryl moving in with them. Daryl gets a few cuts on a hunt and Eric, and later Aaron, patch him up.

Daryl was used to cuts a bruises from being out in the woods even before the world turned. The worst thing that happened to him in the wild was getting impaled on his own damn arrow back when they were at the Greene farm. 

The three gashes on his arm and the one across his brow seemed like nothing in comparison, but the look on Eric's face when he dragged himself through the backdoor, two rabbits and a squirrel in hand, told him that the man didn't agree.

"Oh you poor thing, what happened?" Eric soothed as he wet a dishrag and started blotting up the trickle of dried blood that had fallen down his temple. 

"Weren't nothin'," Daryl muttered, feeling suddenly inadequate of his attention. Eric was in the middle of cooking something delicious smelling and he didn't want to be a burden. Him and Aaron had already done enough for him allowing him a place to crash.

"Must of been a mighty big nothing," Eric smirked as he pulled him to the kitchen table and sat him down in a chair. "Hold this while I go grab the first aid kit," he said.

Daryl replaced Eric's hand on the rag and watched him hobble down the hall on his semi-healed leg to the bathroom for the kit. Carol was the only other person he let fuss over him like this, but he was starting to crave it from the man. And to be honest, that scared him a little. 

"Found it," Eric announce with a big grin as he came back in. He unzipped the bag and sat it out on the table. "Hmm...don't think you'll need stitches. We'll just clean you up and put some ointment on these cuts," he said, his face awash with concentration. Daryl didn't think it was worth wasting resources over, but Eric looked determined and he didn't have the heart to argue.

Eric took one of the antiseptic wipes and tore it open with his teeth. Daryl chided himself for enjoying the sight of that. And he was downright disgusted with the thoughts running though his mind when Eric stood between his parted legs, bent over slightly as he drew the cold, stinging wipe across his wound.

Here the man was trying to do him a favor and all he wanted to do was grab his thighs, pull him onto his lap, and kiss him until they saw stars. But Eric wasn't his boyfriend and he had no right to the affections he wanted nor to the ones he was so kindly being given.

That's how Aaron found them when he came in from a meeting with Deanna. "What happened?" he asked with concern as he took in the scene. 

Daryl's stomach started to churn with the irrational fear that Aaron could read his thoughts, guilt eating away at the lining of his chest cavity like acid at the feeling that they had been caught doing something they shouldn't've been. 

"Apparently nothing," Eric said looking pointedly at Daryl as he moved on to dress his forearm. 

Before Daryl could wave them off to take care of his arm himself, Aaron joined them, a knee pressing gently into the hunter's thigh as he reached around Eric to grab a small bandage to apply to Daryl's face. Their four hands tending to him tender had that churning morphing into a raging hurricane of something he refused to acknowledge as love.

But as they both hovered above, all their attention solely on him, he couldn't wait for his other shoelace to break to send him flying into another bush.


	12. Orange Sherbet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are unsuccessful with their first attempt at making sherbet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again a prompt from the lovely [MermaidSheenaz.](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidSheenaz) It's her birthday in two days and I think we could all use a little neglected Daaric. I promise I haven't abandoned this series, but my muse has been pretty low on it for awhile.
> 
> Prompt is a two-parter with the next chapter: _Eric makes use of that ice cream machine Aaron and Daryl found, Aaron gets to fulfill his fantasy of licking sherbet off Daryl’s fingers_

“I’m so thankful we have ice,” Eric said, snagging a transparent cube from the bowl as Aaron pour it into the ice cream machine he and Daryl had brought back on one of their runs that was sitting on the island.

The hunter was sitting on the counter across from them observing the two with a bored stare. For some strange reason, which most definitely had _nothing_ to do with his cock, Eric took that as a direct challenge. 

He put on his best seductive grin and made an obscenely loud sucking noise as he placed the cube between his lips and suckled. The action got Aaron’s attention as well, but that was just a happy bonus.

Eric traced the frozen cube over his lips and watched Daryl’s eyes darken when his tongue darted out to lick his own in a subconscious mirroring of the movement. He sucked on the cube again then drew it down his jaw and over his neck, slightly exaggerating a noticeable shiver.

That as enough for Aaron who abandoned his watch over the orange sherbet they were attempting to make to kiss his cold lips, fingers reaching for the hem of his shirt and stripping it off. Eric popped the cube into his mouth just as Aaron kissed him again, the heat of their kiss dissolving it quickly.

Eric pulled away to let out a lecherous moan when an ice cube was dragged over his collarbone, his eyes shooting open to see the denim blue of Daryl’s eyes being eaten away by his blown out pupils, the bored look having been abandoned for one of heated need. 

Daryl stuck the cube in his mouth and took his turn kissing Eric senseless, but before his brain froze completely, Eric thought of several ways in which they could use those ice cubes. But that would have to wait for another day because they were already sinking to the floor as they melted into one.

That’s how they ended up over churning their first batch of sherbet.


	13. Strawberry Sherbet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More yumminess!

The second attempt at making sherbet was a complete success! 

Aaron had suggested they try their luck with wild strawberries since Daryl had come back with his pockets stuffed full of them after an unsuccessful hunt. He thought it was adorable that the man refused to come back home empty handed, but he kept that to himself.

After making sure not to over churn it this time, the three of them stuck a spoon into the container and scooped out a bright red dollop of sweet frozen strawberry sherbet. Daryl had suggested they add in a little extra sugar, and they all agreed it was the right call.

“ ‘S good,” Daryl hummed his approval as he licked his spoon clean.

“Delicious!” Eric agreed, dipping his spoon back in the container for seconds. 

“Maybe we should grab some bowls,” Aaron snickered as he turned to retrieve three, but when he spun back, he realized that Daryl had decided to forgo his spoon in favor of dipping his finger directly into the sherbet. 

Aaron’s world shrunk down to the size of Daryl’s mouth as he watched him suck the strawberry mixture off his index finger, the mouthwatering pop at the end the only thing bringing him back into himself. And what he found when he got there was Daryl’s mischievous smirk greeting him.

“Don’t think we need any bowls,” Daryl drawled, plunging his finger back into the reservoir of the machine. He held it up and used it to motion for Aaron to come to him, the frozen treat melting and starting to run like blood down his finger.

Aaron crossed the distance and flicked his tongue up the digit before sucking it into his mouth, careful not to waste a drop of their hard work. And it tasted even better on Daryl’s finger than it did on the spoon.

Eric cleared his throat beside them and they both turned to find him glaring, a little put out at them. 

Daryl winked at their boyfriend before turning back to Aaron and picking him up. “Grab the sherbet,” he tossed over his shoulder as he sat Aaron on the table and chucked off his shirt. He lost his as well then pushed Aaron down flat on the wood. 

He took the removable contain from Eric and stuck his finger back inside. Aaron shivered when he placed a glob of the freezing dessert on his nipple and almost cried out with pleasure when he repeated the same thing on the other.

But everything was soon made better when two hot mouths closed over them and sucked the cold strawberry sherbet off his now-frigid nubs.

And that’s how they discovered the wonderful world of sherbet body shots.


End file.
